


Caught

by peaceloveandjocularity, stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceloveandjocularity/pseuds/peaceloveandjocularity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: A (racy) reimagining of the episode “A Night at Rosie’s.” Or, be careful of what you allow to catch you in Korea!
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Caught

“Woah, Major! What happened to you?”

With his mouth gagged, Charles could only communicate with his eyes - but they were plenty expressive all on their own! Right now, the sentiments they conveyed weren’t printable - or even utterable in mixed company.

“Okay! Okay!” Klinger answered all that swearing. “Let me get you loose.”

That turned out to be easier said than done. Rosie’s (newly christened Rosieland) was jumping. One third of the room was fighting. One third was dancing. The remainder were deep in the bottle. As the bodies moved in their diverse and boozy orbits, collisions were common and Klinger kept getting bumped. Worse, even sitting, Charles was just too blasted tall!

Fortunately, improvisation was one of the Lebanese Corporal’s strongest suits. Despite the glittery, gold knee pads and tennis dress he was wearing, he climbed nimbly into the captured Major’s lap. Charles made a muffled sound of protest that did nothing to deter him. “It’s not my fault!” Klinger said, leaning over his shoulder to get at his wrists. “Who the hell made these knots? A Navy division?”

Charles would have banged his head on something if he could have. First he was unfairly saddled with Pierce’s duties. Then he was bound to a chair like some pagan island sacrifice! Now he was unwillingly trading intimacies with Klinger! He wondered if he was being punished for some sin he’d committed in a past life. He certainly hadn’t done anything in this one that merited this.

He tried to move his legs, to shift Klinger into a slightly more decent position. The Corporal was too intent on his task to notice that his skirt covered both of their laps. What a mad spectacle! At least everyone was drunk; he wouldn’t suffer ribbing over this one later.

Now Klinger balanced on his knees on Winchester’s thighs. Charles tried to remember the last time anyone had gotten so close. The warmth and the weight of another body was almost foreign. Why had he permitted his self-imposed celibacy to go on so long? He tried to remember but came up with no truly good reason. It was true that he wasn’t one for brief liaisons. True, too, that the army made anything beyond fleeting romance almost impossible... but still... months of nothing? He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d coaxed himself into climax.

And now there was Klinger - wasp-waisted, with his slender hips, unknowingly providing services usually offered by long-legged girls in gentleman’s clubs. Charles couldn’t speak to alert him to the general impropriety of the whole thing. Nor could he absent himself from the experience. Which left what? Closing his eyes and enjoying it? Willing himself to feel nothing? Trying to sweet-talk the neglected parts of himself into staying numb?

As he pondered, a new commotion overturned a table, three chairs, and some corpsmen; as the energy of the whole mess rippled out (a study in physics, almost) Klinger tried to maintain his perch by digging his fingers into Charles’ shoulder. It didn’t work. He dropped gracelessly into Winchester’s lap, hoping as he did so that he didn’t land on anything too delicate.

When he realized what he was feeling under his skirt, he looked up. Winchester’s eyes were frightened, his face red. Klinger moved the merest fraction of an inch, grinding against him in - to Charles’ very great surprise- what seemed like welcome. “For me, Major?”

Winchester knew that he should have frantically shaken his head no. But even that tiny taste of a touch had been  _ so good.  _ And hadn’t he earned a little pleasure? 

The rational parts of screamed out a reprimand, instructed him to shake his head. He didn’t. 

“Don’t worry,” Klinger assured him. “It’s a big skirt. No one can see.”

Charles made a muffled sound of protest. Klinger couldn’t be serious! Not here! Not now! They weren’t just in public - they were at a damn party! The knots, he tried to say with his eyes, get the damn knots and then we can go somewhere and you can... oh god!

Klinger was definitely still working on the knots - albeit, one handed - but he’d also unzipped him and was oh, so gently, sweetly, and indecently stroking him as he worked. Hidden beneath the screen made by Klinger’s dress, Charles was being driven out of his mind.

Charles would never discover which would have happened first - his orgasm or the loosening of the knots - because their strange, tangled rendezvous was interrupted when a fight over dice spilled out of the back. The tangling combatants inevitably bumped into other bar goers, sparking new fights. Charles, Klinger, and the chair flipped over. The knots finally gave, Klinger was swept into the fight, and Charles retained the Corporal’s scarf, which was enough to hide the evidence of their strange tryst long enough to get him back to the Swamp. There, he collapsed into his cot and hoped for sleep to sweep him away - quickly. He ran the scarf through his fingers over and over.

***

For the next week, Charles fought a losing battle with front lines that went back and forth more frequently than those responsible for placing broken bodies under his hands.  _ It’s wrong _ , some part of him insisted every time he dared to imagine himself back in that delicately balanced position, back under those fingers that had seemed to know  _ exactly  _ how he liked to be touched.  _ If nothing else,  _ this naysaying part of him pointed out,  _ you’re a surgeon! If you damage your hands playing sex games with Klinger (and don’t think I don’t have plenty to say about  _ **_that_ ** _ ) how are you going to explain it???  _

The other side of his internal war had a different spokesperson, one who was all for letting him enjoy himself for a change.  _ You got drafted - unfairly- out of a career you worked hard to build,  _ it reminded him.  _ Eighty percent of the time, you exist in interchangeably rotten states of terror, cold, hunger, fatigue, or low-level sickness. If Klinger will oblige you by making some fraction of the remaining twenty percent bearable, you would be a fool not to hold onto him with both arms!  _

He had known, perhaps from the start, which voice he would allow to sway him. With that voice in his ears, a spring in his step, and Klinger’s scarf folded small enough to be worn tied around his waist beneath his belt, he took himself to the Corporal’s tent. It took Klinger a moment to answer and when he did, he asked if he was needed for corpsmen’s duties. 

“No.” The word “need” pulsed in Charles’ brain and he almost laughed; he was being overcome by a Lebanese Corporal in a knee-length Easter tulip pink dress. 

“Then you’re here because you’ve got something to say about what happened at Rosie’s.” Delicate colors didn’t mean Klinger wasn’t quick on the uptake. 

“How did you know that?”

“It’s  _ you _ , Major. Tell me if I’m way off base, but I’ll bet anything casual isn’t your thing.” 

Charles opened his belt and undid the scarf in total silence, handing it over. 

Klinger squeezed the fabric in his hands; it was warm from where it had been resting. That Charles hadn’t just stuffed it in a pocket told him alot. “I thought you were pretty bent out of shape at Hawkeye and BJ over what happened.” 

“I am perpetually frustrated with my fellow physicians, but I’m more interested in your actions. What were you thinking?”

“Major, it was a perfect chance! You expected me to pass that up? I figured I’d get what I could while I could.” 

“You would steal even that?”

“I  _ found  _ it. Lost and found rules apply.”

“Lost and found rules, Klinger, say that if the item’s value exceeds twenty dollars, you cannot pocket it.” 

“I didn’t have any pockets in that dress. And the rules  _ also _ say if no one comes knocking after a week, it’s yours. Is anyone going to come looking for you?”

Heat flashed into his cheeks. “Klinger… you have more scarves, don’t you?”

“Lots.”

“And if we were back in that… position… again, you’d climb back into my lap?” 

Klinger carried out the next steps with such impressive efficiency, Charles would have entered him for a commendation if he could have. In mere moments, the door was locked, the lights out, and his arms were bound behind him with soft fabric. He tried to breathe slowly as Klinger climbed into his lap, but gave up when the Corporal ground down on him. 

Winchester didn’t know what he’d been expecting, exactly, but Klinger kept his movements sweet and slow, teasing, letting the pressure build in him. Charles leaned forward to kiss his throat and whine into his neck. It went unspoken, but Klinger read the hunger in him and knew it had been too long since someone touched him with an eye to bringing him pleasure. 

He undressed him as much as the bindings allowed before returning to his lap. Winchester knew the teasing would resume - in full contact mode, now - but he never would have guessed that Klinger would rock back against him, taking him inside. 

_ When did he have time to…?  _ He failed to complete the thought because he could  _ feel  _ entirely too much. He only knew that he would have been happy to complete those intimate preparations for his lover and he could not believe Klinger’s willingness to take on so much, so fast. 

He couldn’t stop him, even to hold him up or lower him more slowly, so Winchester just hoped Klinger would have the sense to stop himself if it was too much. Then another consideration came to mind. Charles’ eyes flew open. “Klinger,  _ a condom _ !” 

“I’m a virgin, Major, it’s fine.” 

“ _ What _ !?” 

He continued to slowly move against him, teasing. “I was waiting for someone special. I didn’t count on you being tied up like a present, but it’s a nice touch.” 

Charles’ head snapped back. “Klinger! You cannot say these things and expect me to remain hard long enough to please you!” 

It was the least dignified Klinger had ever seen him get - and that included the moments when he’d had a gag stuffed in his mouth - and it was over  _ him _ . “If you finish too fast this time, I can wait until you’re ready to go again. I’ve got all night.” 

Charles looked at him quite helplessly.  _ Untouched.  _ He thought of what he’d accused Klinger of stealing. Dark eyes read his face as quickly and as aptly as they’d done in Rosie’s. Klinger nodded an answer to the words he hadn’t voiced. “Oh, I’m sure, Major.”  _ Even if it’s only this one night.  _ As if to prove the truth of those words, he took the steps that would pinion them together, resting his head on Charles’ shoulder, breathing hard, urging him to do with him whatever he wished. 

_ This is going to be  _ **_so_ ** _ fast. Too fast.  _ His thoughts did nothing to slow the motion of his hips, rocking hard enough to threaten the stability of the chair. He knew he should go slow and be gentle, especially given Klinger’s revelation, but it was impossible. And Klinger was no help at all, welcoming every thrust, answering every sound he made with counterpoint noises of encouragement. 

“You really want this?” he asked, words more breath than sound. “Want  _ me _ ?” 

“Please. Charles, please.” 

His name was enough; he let it happen and lost himself to everything but the sounds Klinger made for him. He was numb for long minutes; he didn’t register the way Klinger cleaned them up or even the loosening of the scarves, but he came back to himself in a hurry when Klinger took him back inside. 

“Maxwell, I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just keeping you warm.”

Arms freed, he held onto the Corporal, nuzzling into his hair, kissing his neck. Klinger made soft sounds, welcoming the attention. Why, Charles wondered, hadn’t he been kissing this sweet, slender creature all along? “Max, you are a treat,” he said helplessly. “If you keep this up, I will be forced to marry you.” 

Klinger leaned forward, teasing slowly. “I take my proposals on one knee, Major.”

“Proposals, plural?” 

“I didn’t accept them.” 

“You will accept mine when I choose to make it. But until then, let me please you?”

Klinger nodded happily. Charles believed he would catch him with a diamond, but he knew that the truth was that he’d snagged the Major with a touch. 

End! 

  
  



End file.
